In which the job search continues...

I was a wee bit afraid that my blog had been lost forever, what with the fantastic new ability to use Blogger with a Google account. But it all worked out, and here I am typing yet another inane entry that perhaps no one will read. Good times!

So the nanny job I was applying for fell through because my school hours were simply incompatible. Blast you, grad school! However, I continue the search. My next step will be applying for a chemistry job at Los Alamos National Laboratory. That would be ridiculous if it works, since they pretty much want analytical chemists (that particular discipline being the bane of my existence). But working at Los Alamos would be amazing, and it would be nice to put the ol' chem degree to some good use. So we'll see. The search continues.

I'm excited to see that Sara now has a blog. Everyone should have a blog. Blogs are super.

Countdown: 12 days.

Questions of Science and Progress

My animal development prof points to the first picture on the diagram and says, "This is the little cutie-pie we all started out as." Aww, precious!

To be honest, as interesting as facial development might be, I'm getting a little sick of it. I'm pretty tired of school in general. Well, I'm pretty tired in general. I'll be glad for a few weeks off.

As of tomorrow afternoon, I'm officially done with all the science I'm ever going to do. I'll have completed all the chemistry and biology courses I need for my degree. That is a pretty good thing, I think. I'm excited about moving on to things I'm more interested in and better suited for (namely, psychology). Yet in a way, I'm slightly sad about not doing science anymore. After all, it has been my entire life up to this point. I liked being able to understand the nuances of complex subjects like biochemical pathways and such. Friedel-Crafts acylation! How 'bout some good old fatty acid metabolism? I like being able to understand innuendoes about SN2 reactions. Good bye, science! I'll miss thee!

Not that I'm giving up on it entirely. My desire to know everything about everything prevents that. I'll still listen to the Nature Podcast and Slacker Astronomy. I'll still peruse Scientific American from time to time. I just won't stay up til all hours of the night studying for a damn animal development exam anymore.

The cure for senioritis

I'll admit it: I am so over the whole school thing. I don't want to go to class (not that that's particularly unusual). I don't want to do homework (again, I suppose that's normal). However, the problem is that this lack of motivation has reached epic proportions. It's threatening my academic wellbeing.

I was supposed to do my practice seminar on Monday. Ah, seminar. The crowning achievement of my undergraduate career. I was completely unprepared. I was panicking, to be honest. As I was walking to the lecture hall, it occurred to me that I hadn't even written the requisite abstract for this damn seminar. Oh dear. Problem. My heart was racing, I was breaking into a cold sweat, and then: I noticed the crowds of people milling about outside the science buildings. Hmm. Fire drill? Nope, even better.

Bromine spill.

Bromine! My saving grace! Some tool had spilled 100 mL of it, had forgotten the thiosulfate, and had caused the evacuation of the buildings for around three hours. This chump was my salvation. Of course, I still need to present this silly seminar, but as for Monday, life was good.

So, my dear friends, if you've been suffering from senioritis as I have, then perhaps you should pray for a little bromine.

Chemistry will be the death of me.

I tried to post before, but the Internets ate it. Tragic, truly.

Tonight was my final in analytical chemistry (or "anal chem" as Dr. Frost calls it). I really didn't care how I did on it, as I previously calculated that I'd need a 120% to pass the class. My chances of acheiving that? Slim to none, and slim just rode out of town on a fast horse. Oh well. I will have to pass it eventually, but for now, I'm just glad it's over.

Upon pondering why I am so mediocre at school these days, I was reminded by Katie that the science program is intended to weed people out and make them fail. "But why me? Why am I being weeded??" I wailed. "Well", she said gingerly, "I think that most other science majors study. A lot. Like, all day. Hardcore studying." Perhaps she has a point. Perhaps if I cracked a book open once in a while I'd have an easier time. The fact remains, however, that I hate chemistry with an undying passion, and to have to spend any more time on it than I already do would be infinitely more torturous. Alas, the torment of the natural sciences!

In any case, I have one more final this week, and then I'm home free! For the weekend, anyway. Then it's on to the next big adventure, in this case, art classes. They may end up being a bloodbath, but anything's got to be better than analytical!

Extra caffeine, please.

"She only drinks coffee at midnight
When the moment is not right
Her timing is quite
Unusual
-Train, Meet Virginia

I love coffee. Looooooooove coffee. I drink coffee at almost every opportunity that arises. I drink coffee in the morning, of course. And sometimes I drink coffee at night because we're at the diner or Starbucks. I drink coffee at night and then complain when I can't sleep. But it doesn't matter. It's worth it.

I like coffee because it's warm. I like the bitterness staved off with skim milk and two packets of fake sugar. I like coffee in the winter and I like coffee in the summer.

I like to drink coffee when everything is going wrong. For example, my chemistry research is a mess. I often have afternoons where absolutely nothing goes right: my gels won't polymerize, one sample contaminates the others, I can't get a current to run through the damn gel once it's set to go. When this happens, I figuratively throw up my hands and run downstairs to the lunch trucks for a cup of coffee. Usually hazelnut, as it were.

And then there was yesterday. I did possibly the dumbest thing ever. I locked my keys in my car. Ok, it happens. But oh, it gets worse. I locked my keys in my car. With the car still running. It takes a true genius to do something like that. The situation ended up not being such a big deal, but of course I ended up hyperventilating and whatnot until it was resolved. Once I was driving away, my knees feeling shaky and my stomach feeling fluttery as I came down from the adrenaline rush, I thought to myself: I could use a good cup of coffee right about now.

Last summer, when they were trying to get me to stop being anorexic, they said I had to stop drinking so much coffee. This was actually part of my treatment plan. If I would just cut down my coffee consumption to one cup a day, I'd be much better. Nevermind dealing with the abusive ex. Nevermind the fact that I wouldn't eat more scrambled eggs and cottage cheese. The problem was the coffee. I have dealt with my issues now, and I eat lots of things, but I drink more coffee than ever. I happen to think it's beneficial to my mental health.